Authors: Allison Leotta
“Absolutely not. You aren’t supposed to have these reports in the first place. These cases were sealed by court order. That’s just as much to protect the complainant as the alleged wrongdoer. If you want anything more, ask the court.” Desiree put the letter down and looked at Anna. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but the trial of your sister will focus on one simple question: Did she kill him or not? The coach’s background is not relevant to that. The testing of old rape kits is not relevant to that.”
“I understand your perspective,” Anna said. “I hope you’ll understand mine.”
After their meeting, Anna walked to the steps of the courthouse next door. Three local news vans were parked at the curb. Earlier, she had e-mailed the stations, saying she was holding a press conference. She had even more to announce than she’d anticipated. She greeted the journalists and waited as they set up their cameras and microphones.
“Thank you for coming today,” Anna said. “Some information about Coach Fowler has come to my attention. Over the past fifteen years, six underage girls reported to the police that he molested them. I’m asking anyone who made a report, or their family, to come forward and talk to me. I’m also asking anyone who was victimized by Owen Fowler, but who didn’t make a report, to come forward now. Sexual assault is the most underreported crime in America. For every police report that exists, there are probably several girls who were assaulted but didn’t tell anyone.
“I’m also calling on the Holly Grove Police Department and DA’s office to perform DNA testing on the girls’ rape kits. Apparently, these rape kits have been sitting, untested, for many years, along with thousands of other rape kits in Detroit and Holly Grove.
These kits are like gold, as an evidentiary matter. But not if they’re sitting in a warehouse, untested and rotting.”
“Why are you bringing this up now?” a reporter asked. “Owen Fowler is dead. Even if this is true, he can’t hurt anyone else.”
“This is a failure of the whole system, which is hurting the entire town. Coach Fowler used his position to victimize girls whose families trusted him. The failure to follow up on crucial evidence in this case enabled him. If this isn’t fixed, it can happen again.”
“You didn’t call us here because you’re a rape-crisis advocate,” a reporter said. “You’re defending your sister in a murder case. What does this have to do with the case?”
“Sex crimes thrive from secrecy. Talking about it is the first step in healing. The mothers and fathers of Holly Grove deserve to know.” Anna looked at the cameras. “Ask your children. Talk to them about this. The truth is the first step to justice.”
The reporters lobbed a few more questions—about her trial strategy and how Jody was doing—but Anna shook her head, thanked them, and walked from the steps.
Anna couldn’t tell what the results of her news conference would be. Maybe nobody would listen or care. Maybe people wouldn’t believe that the coach was a predator. But the only way to save her sister—and this town—was to get the truth out. Whatever bumps followed, she’d just have to ride out.
The first bump came sooner than she’d expected.
39
T
hat night, the local TV stations played the clip of Anna’s press conference. She and Jody sat on the couch and watched. A frowning reporter spoke to the camera. “The town of Holly Grove was rocked by scandal today, as the attorney for a woman charged with killing Coach Owen Fowler claims that he was a serial rapist. Is this a dark secret the championship football team has been hiding for two decades? Or a defendant’s Hail Mary attempt to dirty up her murder victim’s name before trial?”
Jody’s landline rang. Anna picked it up. “Hello?”
“Burn in hell, you lying slut.”
Click.
“Who was that?” Jody asked.
“Wrong number.”
The house phone rang again. Anna looked at it, hesitated, then answered. “Hello?”
“I will kill you and your family and shit on your corpses.”
She hung up and looked at Jody.
“I think you’re going to need to get an unlisted number.”
The phone rang again. Anna picked up, hung up, then left it off the hook.
She poured Jody a glass of milk and sat next to her on the couch.
“We’re pissing a lot of people off,” Jody said. “Some of them might be jurors.”
“Anyone who would make threatening phone calls is not someone we wanted on the jury in the first place.”
Jody nodded and sipped the milk. “Okay . . . but we’re not gonna know who they are when we pick the jury, are we?”
A minute later, Anna’s cell phone rang. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Anna went to turn it off but saw it was Cooper. She answered.
“Ballsy move,” he said.
“Ballsy or stupid.” Anna described the angry calls. “Jody’s leaning toward stupid, I think.”
Jody smiled at her.
“You want me to come stay over at Jody’s house tonight?” Cooper asked.
Anna relayed the question to Jody, who shook her head.
“No thanks,” Anna told Cooper. “We’ll be fine.”
Another call buzzed. She looked at the incoming number. It was Jack. She quickly said good-bye to Cooper and clicked over.
“Hi, Jack.”
“Anna! Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. How’d you hear? I thought it was just on the local news here.”
“I have a Google alert out on you. I’m not stalking you, I’m just—worried about you.”
She liked the idea that he was looking after her from afar.
“There’s a lot of support for the football team here,” Anna said. “It’s the one thing everyone is proud of, especially with all the auto factories closing. People don’t want to believe that their local hero could be so evil. They’ve seen so many other shining things turn to rust.”
“Have you had any threats yet?”
“How did you know?”
“It’s the way these things tend to go.”
“Yeah, we’ve had a few phone calls. But Holly Grove folks are good people; they’ll vent, but they won’t hurt anyone.”
“You’re too trusting. Does Jody have an alarm system in her house?”
“No.”
“I’m calling ADT and getting a guy to come out tomorrow.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she said, although the idea made her happy. Twenty minutes after they hung up, she got an e-mail from him, forwarding an appointment with ADT for 4:00
P.M.
the next day.
That night, lying in the dark, she wished they had a security system already. Every creak of the house sounded like footsteps of the bogeyman.
When she woke up the next morning, though, everything seemed fine. She went downstairs, groggily started the coffee, and logged on to the
Holly Grove Observer
website. The headline read: “Allegations of Sex Abuse Shake Community.” The article made ample use of disclaiming words like
alleged
,
claimed
, and
if true
, laying out the facts but distancing the newspaper, making clear that it was just reporting the story, not believing it. The comments section was full of vitriol and misspellings.
This is disgracefull. That girl killed this man, and is now draging his name thru the mud. Shame on her and her sister.
I don’t know what’s worse, murdering this man, or defaming him now that he’s dead and can’t defend himself.
Curtis sisters, you’re the ones who diserve to be killed
Coach Fowler was the best thing in Holly Grove. I hope this lying bitch rots in jail and gets gangraped every day.
Anna flagged the last two as “inappropriate” and hoped a moderator would take them down soon. She heard Jody emerging from her bedroom, and quickly clicked away from the comments. She would try to shield her sister from as much of this as she could. She heard Jody opening the front door to get the newspaper. A moment later came a scream.
“Anna!”
She ran to the front porch. Jody was standing in the yard in her pajamas, looking back at the front of the house. Anna came out and stood next to her. The words
SLUT
,
WHORE
,
BITCH
,
MURDERER
, and
LIAR
were spray-painted in black on the house’s white siding.
YOU WILL BURN IN HELL
was in red over the door. The letters dripped downward, like they were oozing blood.
“I don’t think the homeowners’ association is going to approve this,” Jody said.
“Oh God, Jo. I’m sorry.”
Anna took pictures with her phone. Then they tried to scrub it off. They learned that spray paint does not come off with Fantastik, 409, steel wool, or bleach. Anna threw her own soiled clothes into the hamper and borrowed a pair of Jody’s jeans and a T-shirt.
They went to Home Depot, where a grandmotherly salesperson recommended covering the graffiti with primer and paint. But, the salesperson said, aluminum siding didn’t take well to being painted. The prettier but pricier option was replacing the siding. Anna and Jody went a few aisles over to look at samples. Jody ran her hands over different shades of beige siding. “I needed a home makeover anyhow.” All things considered, she was calm.
Until she got a phone call from her neighbor. Anna could only hear Jody’s side of the conversation.
“Hi, Tammy. Yeah, I’m at Home Depot. I’m fine. Anna’s here, she’s fine too. What’s up? Oh my God. Oh shit. I’ll be right there.”
She grabbed Anna, and they ran out of the store, leaving their cart without buying anything.
40
J
ody raced the Yukon home. They saw the column of smoke from a mile away: thick and black, snaking up against the pale autumn sky. Anna smelled it as Jody swerved the car into her subdivision. When they got to her street, fire trucks were parked at the curb, neighbors stood outside pointing, and firefighters sprayed hoses at the burning building. The flames crackled and danced as they consumed Jody’s house.
“No!” Jody jumped out of the car and ran toward her house. “No! No!”
A firefighter grabbed her and held her back. She fought herself free and kept running. Another firefighter held out his arms and blocked her way. It took three men to restrain her. Finally, she collapsed on the lawn, sobbing. Anna crouched next to her and held her tight. The heat of the fire radiated from the house; the front of her body was hot, while her back was cold. A reporter ran over and held his microphone in front of Jody. She didn’t seem to notice. She looked at Anna, tears streaking her face.
“It’s everything I have,” Jody wailed. “Everything. All my pictures of Mom, every card you wrote me, every corsage from every school dance I ever dried under a dictionary. My sonogram pictures. Everything I’ve worked for or ever cared about in my entire life.”
Anna held her tight. “I know,” Anna said. “But it’s just things. It’s only
things
. They didn’t get you. They didn’t get your memories of Mom. They didn’t get your baby.”
The flames roared, the house moaned, and the roof crashed down in a shower of sparks. A wave of heat flashed on her face, and Anna
held up an arm to protect them both. The firefighters shouted and pushed everyone back, as the flames grew higher. Anna ended up standing with Jody on Tammy’s lawn. Tammy held her baby on her hip and tried to comfort Jody too. The reporters crowded around them, asking questions, but Anna shook her head and asked them to please give her sister some space. The cameras moved a few steps back but kept rolling. Jody cried until her voice cracked, and then she cried until it was gone, and then she cried without making any noise.
• • •
Hours later, two blackened walls were left standing. The rest of the house had burned to the ground. The ruins were a charred, soggy mess. Anna stood with an arm around Jody’s shoulders as they watched the firefighters spraying the final embers. The news vans loaded up and drove away. The air was thick with the scent of wet charcoal. All of Jody’s possessions were ashes.
At 4:00, an ADT van drove up, and a serviceman hopped out. He stood looking between Jody’s charred lot and his clipboard. Anna realized he was the guy Jack had hired to install a security system. A wave of hysteria bubbled up in her chest and she let out a sound that was close to a bray. She shook herself into some semblance of competence and sent the guy home.
She stood with Jody and patted her back. A firefighter came over to them. “Do you have a place to stay for the night? If not, we can put you up in a hotel.”
Jody shook her head.
“We’d appreciate it,” Anna said. “Thanks. Do you have any idea how the fire got started?”
“We’ll need to sift through the scene. But, from the looks of it, I’d say it was an electrical fire.”
“Electrical fire, my ass,” Jody spoke in a hoarse whisper. “We all know this was straight-up retaliation.”
“Ma’am, I understand how you feel. But no one saw anyone tampering with your house. There’s no indication of arson. We’ll let you know if we find anything to the contrary.”
A blue Bulldogs football ribbon was pinned onto his uniform, right over his heart. Was there anyone in this town they could trust? Suddenly, she didn’t want to be in a strange hotel where the Holly Grove authorities knew exactly what room number they were in.
“On second thought,” Anna said. “We’ll stay with a friend.”
• • •
They went to Cooper’s house. Sparky ran around the yard in circles, he was so excited to see them. Cooper embraced Anna, then Jody. “Thank God you’re okay.” He led them into his house and told them they should move their stuff back in his bedroom.
“We don’t have any ‘stuff,’” Jody’s eyes were red and puffy. “I now own a car, a purse, and the clothes I’m wearing.”
“Also the clothes I’m wearing,” Anna said. “These are yours too.”
They smelled of smoke and tears. Cooper insisted they rest while he made dinner. Jody went upstairs and took a shower. Anna grabbed a beer and went outside with Cooper into the cool fall evening. He prepared the grill to make burgers. The scent of charcoal made her queasy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at her face.